


Captain America

by Stacy LA Stronach (slashgirl)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-18
Updated: 2006-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-10 18:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashgirl/pseuds/Stacy%20LA%20Stronach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotch goes on a trip, of sorts, with Blackwolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain America

**Author's Note:**

> Post ep tag for "The Tribe"
> 
> Description of "Mountain Lion" animal medicine from the book "Medicine Cards" (companion to the Medicine Cards) by Jamie Sams &amp; David Carson. I did my best to summarise and put it into my own words. And really, the description of Mountain Lion DOES sound like Hotch. I made John Blackwolf's totem a … black wolf (yes, captain obvious here) but the wolf's medicine is that of teacher. It fit.

"_Responsibility_ is no more than the _ability_ to _respond_ to any situation. Panic is not a part of this sacred medicine." –from the entry on Mountain Lion in "Medicine Cards".

 

Back at the station, the BAU team, along with the local cops and John Blackwolf, the officer from the local reservation, wrapped up the details of the case.

Hotch was sitting in one of the offices, working on his report. Spencer sat on the couch in the cramped room, using a laptop to work on his report. The team would be staying another night in town since the forecast was calling for severe thunderstorms. They wouldn't know until morning when they'd be able to leave.

Around five, John Blackwolf knocked on the door. "Hotchner, can I talk to you?"

"Of course, come in," Hotch replied. He'd gained a grudging respect for Blackwolf and while they'd never see eye to eye on many things, they were both lawmen, each holding the laws of their respective nations dear.

Blackwolf walked in and stood in front of the desk. "Have you eaten yet?"

Hotch looked at the clock, it's after six. "I haven't eaten since breakfast," he said.

"Good. I'd like to invite you to a sweat lodge with me tonight and it's better if you don't eat before going in."

"A sweat lodge?"

"A sweat lodge is—" Reid began.

"I know what it is, Reid," Hotch replied curtly. "Why?"

"Because I think it would be a good experience for you. We all need purification now and then."

"You think I need to 'purified'?" Hotch asked, his tone sharp.

"No, but I do think you have things that you need help…releasing. I'll be leaving here by seven. Let me know if you want to go with me," Blackwolf said. He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Wow, you got invited to a sweat lodge, Hotch. By a Native American! I think it would be fascinating to go to—"

"Spence, please, I need to finish these reports," Hotch said, and he saw the crestfallen look on Reid's face and felt guilty for being so curt with him. He couldn't help it, Blackwolf's offer had touched a nerve in him and he wasn't sure why; he was pretty sure he'd turn down the offer. Hotch just hoped he could do so without offending him.

 

An hour and a half later, Hotch was in the truck with Blackwolf, going out to the reservation. He's still unsure why he'd agreed to do the sweat lodge. Blackwolf had taken him back to the hotel first and Hotch had changed into jeans and a t-shirt. "Do I need to bring anything?" Hotch asked.

"Just yourself," Blackwolf replied. "You can leave your guns here, and you should probably leave your watch and wedding ring as well—the lodge can get quite hot."

"Okay," Hotch said. He put his guns in the dresser drawer, setting his jewellery on top of it. "I guess I'm ready."

Once Blackwolf had explained how the sweat lodge would work and what would be required of Hotch, silence had reigned in the truck. It was comfortable, at least for Hotch, because he never felt the need to fill empty spaces of conversation and apparently, neither did John Blackwolf.

They arrived at the site and after a short walk, were standing in front of the low building that served as the sweat lodge. There were three other men there; one was a tribal elder, Peter Redeagle, and the other two were John's cousins, Mike and Jim Whitehorse.

Blackwolf introduced the men to each other before they all stripped down to their underwear. Hotch followed Blackwolf inside; they had to pretty much crawl through the opening and once inside, there was just enough room for them to sit up. Once the flap was closed, Hotch realised just how dark it was inside. All he can see are the rocks, in the centre of the hut, glowing red in the dark.

After they were settled, Redeagle began the ceremony, chanting as water was poured over the rocks, sending a giant plume of steam skyward. Redeagle was speaking in Apache, and Blackwolf prompted Hotch with the appropriate responses to the questions asked.

Redeagle continued chanting and Hotch felt the heat washing over him like a wave; he'd been in saunas before but this was different. He figured it was because of the darkness. The heat and the dark, combined with the long days he had been working were making him drowsy and Hotch could feel himself drifting off. He hoped the other men would not be offended if he fell asleep. Hotch's eyes slowly closed and it felt like he was almost floating—it was a nice feeling and he enjoyed it.

He opened his eyes and was surprised to see that he was no longer in the sweat lodge, but somewhere else, somewhere very familiar. He realised with shock that he was in the woods behind house he'd grown up in—the one he'd lived in until the age of seven.

He looked around and realised that his vision seemed…strange. Colours were muted, it was almost as if he were viewing the world on a TV with the colour settings mangled. As that realisation hit him, he also noticed that his body felt strange and when he looked down at what was supposed to be his hand, he saw a large cat-like paw. *What's going on?* he wondered, trying not to panic.

"You're having a vision, Aaron. First time in the lodge…I'm rather surprised," he heard Blackwolf's voice but couldn't find him at first. Then he saw a beautiful, large black wolf sitting a few feet away from him. "Do you have any Native blood in your background?"

Hotch tried to speak but whatever he was, he couldn't speak.

"Think it."

"I don't know if I have any Native blood…and I—what _am_ I, exactly?" Hotch asked.

"You're a mountain lion. That's very powerful animal medicine, you know. It's the symbol of leadership. The main lesson that mountain lion teaches us is how to handle the power of leadership—how to do so without insisting that others follow, to understand that everyone is a leader in their own way. It is realising that being a leader, while it means keeping the peace, also means knowing that you can't please everyone all the time. If you try, you end up lying to yourself or others, which is only human nature.

You must be able to tell the truth, that's the first responsibility of being a leader. If you know the truth and live the truth, then your example will show others how to lead and to fulfill themselves," John said. He tilted his head and gazed at Hotch expectantly.

"I live my life that way, anyway," Hotch said. His main concern wasn't really about his "animal medicine" but about what was happening to him. He wasn't sure if this was a vision or if he was dreaming that he was having a vision.

"Doesn't really matter, Aaron," Blackwolf said gently. "The results are pretty much the same."

"What's going to happen?"

"I don't know, this is your vision, not mine," Blackwolf said and, if it was possible, the wolf seemed to shrug its shoulders.

Before Hotch could reply, he heard a woman screaming and it was nearby. Instantly, and without thinking about it, he was on the run. In his cat body, he moved much more quickly and quietly than he ever could as man. He smelled the humans before he came upon them. They were outside of his house…and when Hotch looked at them, he froze.

"Gerard, leave him alone! He hasn't done anything wrong! Leave him alone!" the woman screamed at the man, who was beating a young, dark haired boy, using his belt to hit his back and bottom.

Hotch stared. It was his parents, his mother and his biological father…it was a scene from his own memory, from his childhood. He knew what was going to happen next, but he can't turn away.

Gerard throws his son away from him and young Aaron sprawls on the pavement. "Lilith, you know better than to interrupt me when I'm punishing that boy!" Young Aaron hasn't made a sound since his father started hitting him, nor has he cried. Aaron never lets his father see his tears anymore; he will not be weak in front of him. Aaron turns his head to watch as his father whips his mother across the face with the belt and he gets up, running at his father's legs, he has to stop him…but Gerard hits him across the face and Aaron falls down again, hitting his head on the ground. It doesn't knock him unconscious, but he can't move and almost does blackout.

Watching this happening again, and knowing that his father is going to beat his mother, Aaron, in the shape of the mountain lion, ran forward and jumped on top of his father, his cat instincts making him go for his father's throat, tearing it apart.

The next thing Aaron knew, he was standing in a sunlight dappled clearing in the forest. He was in human form again and John Blackwolf was standing across from him. "What happened…where are we?"

"You tell me, we're still in _your_ vision."

"I just killed my father!"

Hotch's perception shifted again and he knew he was back in the sweat lodge. He had his head on John's lap and he was stretched out perpendicular to him. John had one hand over Hotch's heart and his other hand was stroking Aaron's hair. "It's okay, Aaron. You're fine. Just relax and breathe a bit. You had a vision; you should check your heritage, see if you have any Native American heritage back there."

"You already said that to me," Hotch murmured. He tried to see John's face in the darkness but he can only discern the outline of his head.

"I did?"

"Yes, you were in my vision!"

"Was I?" came the amused reply.

"Yes. You were a…" Hotch pauses for a moment. "You were a black wolf and I was a mountain lion." When John didn't immediately respond, Hotch began to feel agitated. "You _were_ there, right?" He heard a note of panic in his voice and hated it.

When he tried to sit up, John pushed him back down. "Just relax for a few minutes, would you?" He kept his hand on Hotch's chest and when Hotch settled down, John continued. "Yes, I was there, Aaron. Shared visions aren't abnormal, but you had a real doozy for your first one."

Hotch didn't speak for a few minutes; he was still disturbed by what had happened in his dream. Finally, he asked, "What did it mean?" He felt John shrug.

"You tell me, it was your vision."

"Damn it, I don't know how to interpret these things!"

"You do. You're a profiler, aren't you? What happened in the vision?" John asked.

"I saw a memory from my childhood. My father was beating me and my mother tried to stop him. He ended up beating her. I tried to stop him but I was a child, I was powerless."

"Yes, and what did you do this time?"

"I killed him…but I don't know what that means!" Hotch said, frustrated.

"You do. When one person kills another, what does that take away from them?" John prompted.

"It…their life…," Hotch paused for a moment. "Power. I took his power…but it doesn't change anything."

"Not in the past, it doesn't. But you've begun to reclaim the power you've allowed your father to have over you all of these years. You've taken the first step on what will probably be a long and gruelling journey. It'll be worth it in the end."

Hotch didn't say anything. There was a lot for him to think about and some of it, he most assuredly, did not want to think about.

After a few minutes, John encouraged him to sit up. "It's starting to get cold and it's late, I should get you back to your hotel."

When they crawled out of the sweat lodge, Hotch was surprised that it was dark. He shivered in the cool air of the desert night and quickly got dressed. He and John walked back to the truck in silence.

"Do you want to come to my place or go back to your hotel?"

"The hotel, please," Hotch replied.

The ride back to the hotel was as silent as their ride out to the reservation. Hotch was thinking about the vision and what that implied. He'd thought he'd dealt with his issues regarding his father, but now it seemed obvious that he hadn't. The feeling that this might be too much for him pervaded his senses and it scared him. He hated feeling lost and out of control. "What if I can't handle it?" he asked.

"You lived through it and survived, Aaron. You'll survive this. The mountain lion truly is powerful medicine—you're strong."

"I have no idea what that means, you know. Having 'medicine'."

"You'll learn. I can send you some information on it. If you ever need to talk, just give me a call, okay?" John said as they pulled up outside the hotel. "One more thing. You may find that this has opened up some things, things from your past that you will have to deal with. It won't be easy."

"My life has never been easy," Hotch replied. "I really don't need this right now."

"You do, or you wouldn't have started down this path."

"What, no free will? We're just destined to do what the fates compel us to?"

John chuckled. "No, we have free will. But sometimes, if we ignore things for too long, fate has a way of throwing the very thing we're avoiding into our path, so we can't avoid it anymore."

"Great. So, I'll have more 'visions'?"

"Maybe, or maybe they'll be dreams. They'll probably be disturbing for you, but if you ever need my help, just call."

"Just call? When I'm in the middle of some nightmare? Yeah, right. I don't think they have phones there," Hotch said disgustedly.

"Well, you can control your dreams, you know. If you need a phone, one will be there," John said with a smirk. Then he tapped Hotch on the chest, over his heart. "Don't worry, if you need to call me, your heart…your soul will know what to do."

Hotch sighed. "You still sound like a fortune cookie."

"And you're still Captain America."

Chuckling, Hotch opened the door of the truck. He turned to look at John and reached out a hand. John shook it and they smiled at each other. "Thanks, John."

"You're welcome, Aaron. Take care of yourself…and try not to shoot too many people," John said, grinning at him.

Hotch just shook his head and shut the door. He walked into the hotel without looking back.


End file.
